


Music

by paperstorm



Series: 12 Days of Stucky Christmas [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bittersweet, Captain America: The First Avenger, Christmas, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Romance, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:13:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21866269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: Part 7 of the 12 Days of Stucky Christmas series. They share a dance on Christmas Eve.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: 12 Days of Stucky Christmas [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559701
Comments: 20
Kudos: 71





	Music

_1944_  
  
“It’s Christmas Eve.”  
  
In his arms, Bucky stirs. He exhales slowly, and stretches, and then settles back against Steve’s chest. “I know,” he says quietly.  
  
Steve buries his nose into the hair at the back of Bucky’s head, and inhales deeply. His scent is still the same, despite everything that’s happened in the last year. Despite the world turning itself upside down, despite Steve being over six feet tall now and nearly 200 pounds of muscles, despite the two of them being separated by forces beyond their control for the first time in two decades, lost and then found again halfway around the world in the chaos of the world at war. Through it all, Bucky still smells like he always has.  
  
They’re on their sides, Bucky’s back to Steve’s chest, Steve’s now-big arms circled around him, holding him close. It isn’t easy to fit two of them into Bucky’s standard regulation cot, definitely not meant for two. But they’re so used to sleeping together, huddled up for warmth during cold winters and huddled up anyway during sweaty summer months because they like being close even if it’s uncomfortable. Steve smiles happily as Bucky leans back a little further into him, and slides his hand under Bucky’s sleep shirt to press his palm against warm skin.  
  
“Not the best place to be for the holidays, but we’ve had worse.”  
  
It sounds reluctant, but Bucky chuckles. “I guess. None come to mind, but I’m sure you’re right.”  
  
“What about the year the heat went out?”  
  
Breathing in, Bucky shifts, turning in Steve’s arms so he’s on his back and can reach one hand up to tangle in Steve’s hair. Steve kisses his cheek, and then leaves his lips resting there. “That wasn’t so bad,” Bucky remembers. “Once we got warmed up.”  
  
“Once you decided we needed to have sex to stay alive, you mean,” Steve teases. “I came three times in like an hour.”  
  
“Yeah.” Bucky grins. “That’s exactly what I mean.”  
  
“Insatiable.”  
  
“Never heard you complaining.”  
  
“Never would have,” Steve returns. He kisses Bucky’s face again, and then his nose, and then lays a delicate peck to his lips. “Couldn’t believe you wanted me, sometimes.”  
  
“I never did a good enough job of telling you how much I did, then.” Bucky’s eyes slip back closed, and his fingers squeeze gently in Steve’s hair. “Wanted you so much I couldn’t think about anything else. I kept expecting it to fade as the years went on like everyone says it does, but it never did.”  
  
“Wish we could have a night like that here. Wish we had the time, or the privacy.”  
  
“Me too.” Bucky swallows, Steve hears it click in his throat. He lifts his arm, encouraging Steve to move until he’s cradled against Bucky’s chest, head on his shoulder. It makes Steve feel small again, when Bucky holds him like this, even though he doesn’t fit in this spot the way he used to.  
  
“We’re together,” Steve says, maybe trying to convince himself as much as Bucky. “For right now, we’re safe. And we don’t have a mission to run today, so we can just stay here and do Christmas stuff with the others. Lots of people aren’t so lucky.”  
  
“You’re right,” Bucky agrees. There’s still a hint of sadness in his voice, but it doesn’t sound like he’s pretending in order to placate Steve. It sounds like he means it.  
  
His other arm comes up, both wrapping around Steve and hugging him. Steve doesn’t let him move away when it feels like he’s about to, taking a handful of Bucky’s shirt and pulling him back in so they can kiss properly. Bucky hums into it, shifting onto his side facing Steve so the slide of their lips is a little easier. His knee pushes in between Steve’s, interlocking their bodies together all the way down.  
  
“Probably don’t have time for three,” Steve slurs into the wet smear of their mouths and tongues together, “maybe one, though.”  
  
“Like I’m gonna turn that down,” Bucky returns. His lips curve into a smile, and Steve kisses his dimples and the cleft of his chin and everywhere else his mouth can reach, peppering kisses all over his face as Bucky’s fingers curl around his hip. “Hurry up, it’s probably almost sunrise.”  
  
“Pushy,” Steve grumbles, with no real heat to it.  
  
“Yeah, well, don’t blame me when you’re about to come and the bugle sounds and we gotta get up.”  
  
Steve chuckles. He slides his tongue into Bucky’s mouth at the same time he slides his hand into Bucky’s underwear, curling his fingers around his half-hard cock and stroking slowly. Bucky groans into his mouth, breath increasing at even that little bit of contact. It’s been too long, this time, since the last. They’ve been busy. It’s good for distraction from the reality of their circumstances, when there’s a lot going on. It’s bad in other ways.  
  
“Feels good,” Bucky sighs, hips gently rocking forward into Steve’s hand, skin warm and smooth under his palm. “Been too long. Missed you.”  
  
“Me too.” Steve drags his lips along Bucky’s cheek, finding soft, sensitive skin behind his ear and sucking at it lightly. “Love you.”  
  
“Love you back, Stevie. Always have.”  
  
The rest of the day doesn’t feel very much like Christmas Eve, but Steve wasn’t really expecting it to. It’s difficult, to bother with good will and the sort when they’re where they are. When, even though it seems quiet today, they saw action last week, and likely will again by next week. When there’s blood and permanent injury and destruction all around them, when at any moment the shelling could begin again so they can’t ever really fully exhale, even as they sleep. Still, there are moments of happiness. There are random bouts of terribly off-key singing, there’s an impromptu snowball fight, there’s a general feeling around the camp that today is just a little bit brighter than the day before.  
  
After the sun sets, there’s music on the radio in the mess hall, turned up loud enough that they can hear it back in Bucky’s room. Steve sits on Bucky’s cot, smiling at him as Bucky strips out of his uniform and back into his softer sleeping clothes he’d been wearing this morning when they stole a few moments together.  
  
“What is this?” Bucky asks, frowning over his bare shoulder at Steve before he pulls a t-shirt on over his head.  
  
It takes Steve a moment to realize Bucky’s referring to the music. He squints, stilling for a beat to hear it better. “Oh, I heard some of the men talking about this one, I think it’s new. Judy Garland.”  
  
Once Bucky is dressed, he goes to crack their door open just a fraction, so the music filters louder into their room. It’s slow, and gentle, strings and Judy’s low, mellow voice. “It’s nice,” he says, looking back at Steve. There’s something dark behind his eyes.  
  
Steve stands, and holds out his hand. “Dance with me?”  
  
“What if someone …?”  
  
“They won’t. They’re all sleeping, or down at the mess hall being sappy, just like us. Please?”  
  
Bucky nods. He steps over, takes Steve’s hand and lets Steve pull him in. Steve wraps an arm around his waist and stays holding Bucky’s hand in the other, threading their fingers together. He kisses Bucky’s forehead and sways him, smiling to himself when Bucky gives in and leans into him and lets Steve lead them in a tiny circle around the small room.  
  
Judy’s voice croons, “through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow,” and Bucky sniffs, struck by the lyrics in the same way Steve is.  
  
“I got you,” Steve whispers to him. The war has hit Bucky harder than Steve. He wasn’t expecting that. Bucky’s always seemed so strong. He’s sensitive, he’s always been more sensitive, ever since they were kids, but Steve still wasn’t expecting this. When they’re out on missions, or around the others, Bucky holds it together. He holds _them_ together, all of them. Their fearless leader, even though Steve has taken that role a little bit since he’s been here but Bucky still technically outranks him because Captain America is not a real military rank, and the men adore and respect their Sarge in a way that makes Steve so unbelievably proud of him. But when they’re alone, the cracks in Bucky start to show.  
  
Steve supposes that’s alright. None of them are unaffected. Bucky’s always been empathetic. It’s what made him care so fiercely about Steve, when they were schoolmates and no one else had the patience for him.  
  
“I know,” Bucky answers. “I miss home. But I’ve got you, still. That’s so much.”  
  
“We’ll get outta here, Buck,” Steve promises. “We’ll be back home, we’ll dance to this song again in happier times. I swear it.”  
  
“I believe you.” Bucky smiles up at him, tears in his eyes but the smile real on his lips. Steve kisses them, and repeats his vow in a whisper.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me [on tumblr](http://paper-storm.tumblr.com/) [or twitter](https://twitter.com/turningthedials) if you want!


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